Saving My Life
by Rosalie Beckett
Summary: The devotion of a life to save another. Sometimes all a person needs is a little comfort.


_I'm coming home, I'm coming home  
Did you take off while I was gone?  
I missed it all, I messed you up, I missed you  
I'm coming home, I wanna know  
When all the leaves begin to fall  
If I'm falling, falling apart for you_

**-Homecoming** by Hey Monday

The only light in the lonely house that stood on the end of Winter Way were from two high burning candles on the second floor of the home. This light, never diminishing, could be seen from blocks and blocks over, becoming quite distracting to the residents on more than one occasion. In the bathroom on said second floor sat a young woman in her shower with the taps on hot, trying to drown out the sound of her crying, while her lover watched equally distressed, trying to calm her without making contact.

Hermione Granger's house, which was the only one of its kind in the neighbourhood, was a famous one at that, not for who housed it, but for who went in and out of it. Many people with bright red hair and a man with a strange scar on his head visited frequently, raising the eyebrows of the people who lived around her. The nuisance of a girl had moved in only four months ago and already they were irritated by the strange lights and noise that came from the house. The previous owner would roll in his grave if he knew the folk she brought in with her.

Draco Malfoy sat against the opposite wall, staring at her through the fogged glass, his fingers lightly tracing where her prints were splayed. She didn't bother covering up. It made no difference whatsoever whether he saw her naked anymore, those lines had been crossed years before.

The steam from the water swirled with the candles, creating pockets of purple shadows that danced across the floor and walls. His face was illuminated in the enchantment as he watched her pick at herself, analyzing every part of the war that she was involved in. Her disgust at what she thought were mistakes she had made were etched across her face.

During these episodes she never let him touch her and barely let him stare at her. Hermione just sat in her own little world, talking to herself, sometimes to him if she felt like it.

She scratched at her skin, thinking she saw dirt, but it turned out to be a lone freckle on her leg. Odd, she hadn't noticed it before.

She felt dirty no matter how much she scrubbed, no matter how long she stayed under the water... Until it turned cold. Her skin was burning but her insides still felt frostbitten under the scalding water. Her tears blended in with the steam and she still felt ashamed that she let this feeling get the best of her. Now was the time to be strong. No, it wasn't the time to be strong anymore. It hadn't been for months. Voldemort was gone, but the faces of the dead still haunted her while she was awake and plagued her nightmares.

"There's so many." She whispered simply into the steam, her voice echoing against the granite.

"You did what you had to do, Granger," Draco replied just as softly.

She laughed bitterly and ran her shaking hands over her arms.

"At least you don't have a bloody mark on your arm for the rest of your life. I mean look at my beautiful skin now."

She shook her head flippantly and he pulled up his shirt sleeve, revealing the ugly tattoo on his skin. She wasn't convinced.

He studied the purple bruises under her eyes and her once bushy, unruly hair that now lay limp on her shoulders from all the showers, at least four a day. Every time she showered he sat and watched her, trying to understand her, trying to get her to understand that it was _okay_. That he loved her. That she deserved to be alive just as much as Potter did. That she was vital. He tried to remind her that without her he wouldn't be sitting there.

"I used Unforgivables. I've killed." Her eyes glazed over as they usually did. He knew that look. He knew what that felt like.

"I have as well, if you haven't forgotten, which I don't think you ever will. Lord knows you seemed to never want to let me forget when we were in school." Draco rolled his eyes, trying to get her back into the normal banter of the daytime.

"That's not the point." Hermione said, reaching up and twisting the knob so the water turned hotter.

"The point is is that you killed those who needed to die to save the ones who deserved to live. How much more Gryffindor can you get? But this definitely isn't."

She glared at him. This was always a good sign. "I certainly am a Gryffindor! Never question that!"

"Then get out of that shower."

"I'm not going to do anything you tell me to do, you prick."

He chuckled and began pulling off his shoes, then his socks.

"What on earth are you doing, Malfoy?" Her eyes grew wide.

"Coming in to get you. I don't like you all prune-y."

"All right, all right, I'm getting out." She sighed quietly.

Hermione stood, turning off the water and making an attempt to brush some of it off her body.

Draco sat perfectly still, letting her move at her own pace. If she wanted him to follow her she would let him know. He had made the mistake of rushing her before and the result hadn't been pretty.

"I just want to go to bed."

"We can do that." He replied, nodding his head.

She pulled a towel over herself and reached her hand out to him. Their fingers intertwined, fitting perfectly together; her hand so small in his own. He teased her constantly about her baby hands, as he called them, but he loved how feminine they were – so soft and smooth – just like a woman should be. She was exactly what he wanted, everything he could have hoped for. He kissed the back of her hand and heard her sigh.

The trek to their bedroom was slow, but steady. Hermione glanced up at him and at their hands periodically, as if expecting him to just disappear at any moment. He'd proven, however, many times that he wasn't going anywhere. He stayed with her through everything.

Draco laid Hermione down and pulled the covers over her legs because he knew that was the only part of her body usually to get cold. He put one hand in the crook of her neck and one on her stomach. This always seemed to comfort her.

He slowly dragged his fingers over her exposed stomach, every once and awhile dipping them to her hips. The feeling made her toes curl and tingles run through her body. He replaced his fingers with his mouth, making lazy circles with his lips.

Her breathing slowed and he felt himself relax.

"You always know exactly what to do," she said lovingly, running her fingers through his hair. "I don't deserve how well you treat me. Why do you even put up with me?"

"Because I understand what you're going through. And no one else understands me the way you do." Draco smiled up at her.

She kissed him and let him return to the job with his fingers. She glanced away, focusing on a spot on the wall. Tears threatened to fall.

"I'm sorry." Hermione managed to choke out.

"You're okay," He whispered, pulling her face so she would look at him.

"I know. You make me okay."

"I love you."

"I believe you."

Draco held her and continued to give her the solace that she needed, and only he could give.

**A/N: This just came to me one sleepless night, and wouldn't leave until I wrote it out. =] I hope you enjoyed. **


End file.
